


cosmos

by kinpika



Series: signed, sealed, delivered [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Genre: Hogwarts Mystery Event 2018, multiple fics, multiple prompts, slytherin MC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 07:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16761058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: Done for the Hogwarts Mystery Event 2018 on tumblrJuly 22nd, Day 1: MCJuly 23rd, Day 2: Study Date/Study PartnersJuly 24th, Day 3: Great HallJuly 25th, Day 4: New PrefectsJuly 26, Day 5: JacobJuly 27, Day 6: PotionsJuly 28, Day 7: Free Day





	1. Day 1: MC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Having a bad day, Rhodes?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seventh year MC

On some level, Natasha should have seen her day ending in such a way. After all, Professor Trelawney had only predicted, as much, for a not so great day lying ahead. She may have even mentioned water, now that Natasha thought about it. Of course, earlier in the morning, she had simply laughed the worries and signs away, as Divination was one of the easier classes she took, and who listened to their batty old professor anyway?

Now here she was, picking herself up out of the fountain. Absolutely sodding wet, books scattered about, some unfortunately joining her in the water. It was only most of her homework, likely, and Natasha could only push the hair out of her eyes, as she reached for her wand.

Fortunately, it was several first years in front of her, apparently having realised that their hurrying had knocked their resident Prefect into the water. Fortunate for _them_ , as clearly the signs of Natasha drawing her wand was enough to have one of the girls burst into tears in apology. Unfortunate for Natasha, perhaps, as she clambered as elegantly as she could manage out of the fountain finally. And here she thought it was some person or other within hexing range. A handy Gryffindor or two, at the very least. If it had been out of revenge for the most recent match, she would understand on some level.

But no. Just careless first years, shaking in robes a size too big. Natasha clicked her tongue at that.

End of her wand turned on herself, Natasha could only mumble a charm, before a jet of hot air shot out, drying her robes. “Get my things, will you?” she says, eyes sliding across to only one first year who hadn’t yet turned to water. Almost did, as it was the first thing Natasha had yet to say, beyond her initial swears. 

As the young boy was reaching for her papers, Natasha drew herself to her full height. The irony was hitting her faster than her anger, now. “Ten points from Slytherin,” at the look of fear on their eyes, Natasha lets the tense pause end with an: “ _each_.” Trelawney never predicted anything right, right? Or maybe she cursed Natasha so that it would happen.

Another burst of apologies, and Natasha could only stare at the hapless first years, rushing to pick up her things. Ah, yes, her star chart was ruined. As was the notes for potions — yet thankfully she had made a copy earlier, to share with Penny. “Watch where you run next time, will you?”

Books and bag, now carefully laying on the ground, was just another target for her wand. Crouching down, Natasha only waved the first years away in dismissal, pointing that the Transfiguration courtyard was in the _other_ direction. At least she had a free period. Maybe she could hunt down Professor Sinistra and explain what happened. 

Until she saw how the ink had run and bleed from their pots, and Natasha could only throw the bag a few feet from her, giving up entirely. _Enough_.

“Having a bad day, Rhodes?”

Natasha looks up at the familiar voice, finding herself smiling despite her situation. “And how did you just happen to know I was having a bad day?”

Returning her smile with an easy grin, Charlie crouches down beside her. “I followed the sound of crying first years, only to find they were actually Slytherins this time, not Ravenclaws.”

“You say that like I _never_ make my own house cry.”

Charlie gives her a _look_ , that has her laugh. Then sigh. “They knocked me into the fountain as they were running past. Safe to say that nearly all my stuff is ruined.” Natasha mumbles another curse under her breath. “I guess it was time to drop out. I needed a sign, and here it is.”

Snorting, Charlie stands once more, offering her a hand up. “Oh, shut up. Rowan has Arithmancy with you, right? I can give you my notes for Care of Magical Creatures, and I’m sure Ben or Barnaby has last week’s work from Charms. Tonks probably has Transfiguration. Or Tulip. You’re _fine_.”

Natasha gives a sniff, dabs at her eye with her sleeves, and even gives a dramatic sob, just for effect. “What would I do without you?” 

As she takes his hand, Charlie only laughs, hauling her to her feet. “Probably would’ve been lost to a chimera or two, who knows.” Ends his jab with a wink and a nudge, picking up her bag and hefting it over his shoulder. “Come on. We have people to find, homework to fix. Usual stuff.”

Returning the nudge, Natasha sets into a casual, calm pace. Completely devoid of anything she was feeling mere moments before. “Thank you, Charlie. I mean it.”

He throws an arm over her shoulder, and only laughs. “Anytime. You know that.”


	2. Day 2: Study Date/Study Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Third years, honestly. We weren’t that bad, surely.” And that statement was left to hang in the air, as smiles threatened to spill. “Oh, come off it.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sixth year MC now

It was nearing eight, by the time Natasha had wandered into the library. Late for dinner, late for the meeting in the common room with a bunch of rowdy third years, and now late for this. At least, by their sixth year, they had almost expected it. 

Especially when she was greeted with a resonating ‘ _heeeey_ ’, that only earned a shushing from Madam Pince. Only about an hour, until they had to leave anyway. Natasha drops her bag on the floor, all but throws herself into a free chair, and greets the table with her forehead. Madam Pince peers around the rows of books, glaring resolutely, before disappearing once more.

“You all right there, Natasha?” That sounded like Penny, and Natasha only turns her head to the side, to confirm that yes, indeed, it was her.

“Third years, honestly. We weren’t that bad, surely.” And that statement was left to hang in the air, as smiles threatened to spill. “Oh, come off it.” Okay, they had definitely pushed the boundaries of acceptable in their third year — and their fourth was only that much better.

“Considering we broke nearly every rule, _especially_ that year, whatever these third years did had to be outstanding.” 

Natasha did have to agree with that statement, and closed her eyes. Story time, it seemed. “They decided to charm their beds, for reasons I didn’t find out. Except — get this — they got their room ‘confused’ with the girls, and one bed tried to eat a student.”

“And they say that Slytherins look out for their own,” a derisive snort comes from Rowan, fixing her wonderfully blue tie at that. The jab barely takes hold in Natasha, as she makes a noise of agreement. That was the story, anyway. But when had her house, nor her time in the house, reflected that.

“Apparently not when it comes to gobstones, cards, or bag of sweets from Honeydukes. Seriously, these third years. They’re going to kill me.”

If they laughed, it was much too loud for Madam Pince’s poor ears. Homework was now thoroughly abandoned (not that she had actually started), as Natasha finally pushed herself up to prop her chin in her hands. Penny, for her effort, did continue to take notes on particular measurements, but seemed too to drop in effort. It was getting late anyway, that was Natasha’s excuse.

Rowan had propped her book up, and whilst she did seem to be taking notes, her eyes were betraying her, as Penny spoke up again.

“What was the issue last time?”

Natasha almost wanted to ask ‘which last time’, as there had been more than a dozen at this point. It was a wonder that Snape had seemed to not notice what was going on in his house, or that he didn’t care enough to intervene. Or, perhaps, it was only reasonable Natasha and the other prefects were left to clean up the mess, as some kind of divine justice on her previous years. She wouldn’t put it past him.

“Chess, I think. A ‘real life reenactment’. Tried to cast _engorgio_ on their pieces, only to be chased by them. The common room was a mess by the time we arrived.” She remembered that one clearly, like it was only the weak before. Several large pawns, and one bishop, were hopping around the common room, chasing after screaming students. How they didn’t break the windows to the lake was beyond Natasha. Barnaby had been particularly pleased about that one, more than helpful in reducing the numbers of attacking chess pieces. That thought made her smile.

“What’re you studying anyway, Rowan?”

Only now, did Natasha notice the incredibly large book, propped up in front of several others. Something fancy and cursive shimmered on the front, and there looked to be a howling wolf. As she stared, Natasha noticed that the wolf closed it’s mouth, and caught her eye. How quaint.

“I was reading up on wolves, were or otherwise. Fascinating stuff.”

Penny interjects with a, “she finished her Transfiguration work earlier this morning, and has been reading about magical beasts nonstop.” A fond, if curled, smile sits on her face, as they regard their friend.

Rowan goes scarlet at the comment. “What with how Defence Against the Dark Arts is going, I thought it would be nice to do my own readings.”

With a laugh, Natasha prods Rowan in the arm, “Want to tell me about ‘wolves, were or otherwise’, while we finish up the last of Penny’s assignment?”

There’s only a moment’s hesitation, a single notice, before Rowan begins divulging all she had found out. A comment or two thrown in about animagi, which has Natasha smile, and chatter breaking up only three times to point out the number of bezoars needed for Penny’s assignment. Definitely worth meeting up, she thought, no matter how late she had been. 


	3. Day 3: Great Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And Natasha wasn’t going to let anyone stop her from having her last Hallowe’en, no sir._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made up a few fellow Slytherins for my MCs house.

“Wait, Barnaby!”

Pulling on her robe, one arm through the other, Natasha ran after the taller boy, taking the steps two at a time. Weaving through other, younger Slytherins, with the occasional snap at those stepping out of line, Natasha made it to fellow seventh years, and nearly collapsed at Barnaby’s side. Damn him, and his long legs. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Oh, sorry, Nat, I didn’t hear you.”

“S’okay.” Her sides were hurting. “Come on, we’re going to be late. And I want to see Rowan and Tulip before we sit. Although, I think Ravenclaw will be near us this year.”

Linking arms, they walked ahead of the others, chattering amicably with the others. Ahead of them, two fellow seventh years were pushing each other around, getting louder the further up the stairs they went. Only a matter of time until one of them went head first over the banister, and it was taking more than it should for Natasha not to say something.

Until she saw Ismelda go to make a move, and she shouted first. “Selwyn, Pyrites. Let’s make it to the feast first, before we see which one of you falls faster, shall we?” Ending on a suggestion, she earned a mock bow from Aleksander, who just continued on, with less threats of falling over now about.

Something snide was said, and Natasha and Barnaby both whipped around at that, effectively shutting the rest of the conversation up. Just one Hallowe’en Feast, she would like Slytherin to make it in one piece. Last year, with most of the fifth years skipping to set up some elaborate prank, lead to a lot of speculation whether they would even be allowed to walk themselves again.

And Natasha wasn’t going to let anyone stop her from having her last Hallowe’en, no sir. 

Finally, finally, they made it to the Entrance Hall, decorations in full form. Bats swooped overhead, large black clouds floating around, and wonderfully carved pumpkins lit the way to their table. There was no stopping the delighted _whoop_ from those behind them, as many of the younger students ran to take their places at their table.

Natasha noticed her guess was right, and they sat comfortably between Ravenclaw, but also Gryffindor this year. Barely getting a wave in at Tulip, who nudges Rowan, Natasha is directed to sit between Barnaby and Jason. Ben sees her next, table on the other side, and only offers her a grin before returning to whoever he was talking to. Chatter fills the air around them, and Natasha notes that Aleksander at least sat up a bit straighter when he too noticed the first years giggling so hard they almost fell off their seats. He yells something down the line, that carries, and Natasha only grins.

Decidedly, when the last of those ran in for the feast, Natasha catches the eye of a very harried, yet red Charlie running in. Nearly skids on the floor, as he all but falls into a seat on the table opposite Natasha. Barnaby waves first, Natasha second. Charlie pulls his bag off, kicking it under the table, and returns the wave. And it seemed they were not the only one to notice him being the last in, as Dumbledore greets them with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Now that we’re all here… dig in!”

Natasha watched those around her, students of all years, ooh and aah over the way the golden plates filled, and couldn’t stop smiling at that. Leans over Barnaby, reaching for the pudding, and can only laugh.


	4. Day 4: New Prefects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Natasha could only mouth the same concern she before they arrived. This was so weird, and yet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of figure Rowan is more of a Ravenclaw, so she gets the badge too. Fifth year now

“This is so weird.” 

Natasha doesn’t stop fiddling with her badge, as they make their way to the front of the train. Can’t help it, really, with how it seemed like a weighty reminder. Despite how much people talked about how she seemed perfect for the role, it did feel like it was meant to trap her. After all, Rowan had thought so as well, until she had succumbed to the realisation that she too, had made Prefect.

“Tell me about it!” Charlie, the brand new Gryffindor Prefect, seemed a little too ecstatic, despite how he agreed. Of course they’d all discussed it, and whilst the larger part of their friends had turned down such an opportunity, nor even accepted it as a reality, Charlie was almost second to Rowan in excitement. 

“It’s great though, isn’t it?” Rowan was puffing her chest out, as if to emphasis the blue and bronze badge on her robe. Her enthusiasm wasn’t caught entirely, but Natasha offered a smile at least, even if it was a little strained. Especially when she noticed how Rowan kept hovering, as if to adjust the badge a little further to the left, or right, just to make sure it was noticeable. Since they’d changed into their robes, Natasha had yet to see Rowan leave it alone.

Charlie hadn’t taken his badge off since he’d received it either, according to Bill. Transferred it from every article of clothing to the next, carefully watching over it the entire time. Even now, as they trundled down the last part of the train, he was staring at it proudly. And sitting proudly below, was the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain’s badge, glinting in the low lighting. 

At the door to the front carriage, Bill greeted them. Broadly smiling, _Head Boy_ badge gleaming on his chest. “Finally! Thought I’d have to go find you three again.”

“Do you know who the other Slytherin Prefect is, Natasha?” Rowan whispers aside, as they shuffle into the carriage. On one side, fellow Slytherins sat together, and Natasha could see how they stared at her. Biting her lip, she could only shake her head, before motioning to them. There’s a moment of understanding, before she makes her way over.

Nodding to one of the sixth years, Natasha settles next to Aleksander Selwyn, fellow fifth year. So there was the answer to Rowan’s question. Aleksander, for his effort, raised a brow in question, before settling to stare ahead, as a seventh year Hufflepuff stepped forward.

With a clap of her hands, the murmuring died down. Out the corner of Natasha’s eye, she spotted Charlie give the thumbs up towards Bill, who only winked in response. That had her smile, and turn back as it came to introductions.

Both Bill and the Hufflepuff (Tara Lawfords, their Head Girl for the year), spoke about what was to come. Rules, events, expectations. If anything, Natasha had to credit both Bill and Tara, for the way they just seemed to command the attention of the room. Even her fellow Slytherins seemed to simmer down to a mild mumble, the occasional minute comment when Tara especially emphasised getting along. 

It was impressive, and when Natasha met Rowan’s eye, she was sure she mirrored the same expression — a little bit of concern, maybe a touch of excitement, and a lot of wide-eyed nerves. 

Natasha could only mouth the same concern she before they arrived. This was _so_ weird, and yet.

And yet? When Bill gave her a small smile of encouragement, Natasha didn’t feel so out of place, so sure that she wasn’t supposed to be a part of this. That it was just supposed to be a way to hold her back. Looking down at her own badge, Natasha noticed the gleam off of if in the light of the cabin, and finally let herself smile.


	5. Day 5: Jacob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jacob was always so bright, so smart, and everyone told her so. But she sat on the floor, cross-legged, his madness spread around her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some reflection on what could be

When pressed, Natasha had to confess she couldn’t remember as many exact points about Jacob as she used to. It did make her question just how much she was filling in, how many gaps she had to cover, to make it seem like her brother had always been there.

Such as when she was seven, and he around sixteen. On their family ranch, riding horses, settling into another warm summer — was he there with her? Was Jacob riding alongside, on his palomino, Butterscotch? Named aptly for how it broke into his bag when it was very young, following the scent of sugar (did he even remember Butterscotch?). Or had he pulled back, huddled up in the drawing room, covering the walls in notes. Natasha had been sure, in the summer before his seventh year. 

Natasha pushed for answers, seeking just about every memory charm the library had to offer, just so she could remember. Find specific details, ones that pertained not only to finding him, but to answering the question: would he be the same?

Would Jacob still grin, as he presented her over Christmas with gifts from Honeydukes, and promises to see the Three Broomsticks together when they were older? How he would detail, in every sense of the word, quidditch matches between the Houses — how Slytherin maintained superiority, and that he too had been given a place on the team. Or that one photograph he had, of the Giant Squid floating by the common room.

In the room, that had been called his, Natasha searched through papers, books, drawings. Hours poured, into squiggly maps and badly drawn creatures, trying to work out where his head had been. Jacob was always so bright, so smart, and everyone told her so. But she sat on the floor, cross-legged, his madness spread around her.

Natasha couldn’t answer the question, not when Tulip, Rowan, Andre nor even Merula milled around her, sorting things out. Put in one place and back into another. Perhaps there was never meant to be one, that Jacob, the older brother, no longer existed. That he disappeared long before anyone realised. 

She just wasn’t sure if she was ready to accept that. 


	6. Day 6: Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“That seems… quite specific,” is all Penny can say._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seventh year again! And I’m honestly 100% sure Penny could whip up something this powerful by then, too. Also, shameless MC/Charlie implication here too

There were a small number of people Natasha had expected to run into partway through an afternoon in the potions classroom with Penny. Andre had not been at the top of her list. 

Never mind that it was only a few hours out from the Ravenclaw v Hufflepuff match, and she was quite aware that Hufflepuff wanted to pay Ravenclaw back for the disgrace from the previous year. Surely he should’ve been out with the rest of his teammates, at the very least, doing some last minute checks. Maybe a few strategies.

Instead, Andre had made his way, down into the dungeons, as Penny was busy messing around with high level potions, whilst Natasha herself simply doodled. A new plan of attack for the vault, but it had dissolved into little more than scribbly dragons burning buildings. 

“Andre, hey, what’s up?”

Natasha’s greeting was met with a loud sneeze, that did nothing but have both Penny and her share a smile. “What’s this? Star player, caught a cold? What would your team think?” 

Penny finished with a scandalised gasp, yet continued to carefully stir with her free hand. For his effort, Andre could only grimace, and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket.

“Har har. I’ve been so careful all week, until Arnold left the window open overnight. And now I’ve got,” with irritation that could only so strong, Andre pointed at his nose, “ _this_!”

“Why don’t you see Madam Pomfrey? You’d be better in minutes with her.” Natasha raised her brows, as Andre took a seat at their table. Only a few other fellow students turned at the scrape of the chair on the floor, and Natasha waved them off. 

“I can’t. Hufflepuff have the Hospital Wing locked up.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right.” Penny actually stopped then, hand raised over her cauldron. “‘Locked up’? But that’s a—” and then she pauses, side eyeing Natasha. 

With a snort, Natasha finishes her sentence. “Slytherin thing to do, yes, it’s fine. Granted, I haven’t orchestrated such an action. Been trying to play fair this year, after all.” 

“Apparently, Hufflepuff has thrown in with Slytherin. They want us out of the final, and if Hufflepuff beats us, they go into another round with Gryffindor, and Slytherin don’t have to verse us again.” Andre explains, as if the allegiance between the two houses shouldn’t surprise anyone. 

It did, of course. A slow sort of blink leaves both Penny and Natasha, as they survey Andre before them. “That seems… quite specific,” is all Penny can say, while Natasha went towards another stream.

“I’m going to throttle them. All of them. Honestly, what a bunch of pricks. I _told_ them to not interfere.”

Andre looks at her then, a mild amount of alarm. “You knew they wanted to do something?” 

“To _Gryffindor_ , yes. But I put it down before anything could happen. Selwyn wasn’t particularly impressed, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he put Flint up to this.” Oh, they were all doomed once she got her hands on them.

If the conversation was going to go any further, it didn’t, as Andre sneezed once more. “Anyway, back to my original point,” he begins, fishing out his handkerchief once more. He didn’t put it away, this time. “I need something — _anything_ — to get rid of this cold.”

“Pepperup?” Penny was up and out of her chair before anyone had a chance to comment, already fiddling with jars. 

Natasha took the cue, dragging another cauldron closer while edging the one Penny had been working at to the side. “This one done?” It was bubbling gently, a soft sort of sheen to it. Distinctly, Natasha could smell honeysuckle, grass, and something she would consider an open fire. How strange.

“Need it to sit for half an hour before I keep going. I can make this quickly while we wait.”

Penny was nothing if not efficient, with how quickly she got the pepperup potion going. Andre too, was staring at the other one with some intent, frowning as the shimmer of silver seemed to turn pearly. “What?” Penny finally asks, as she’s stirring the contents of her second potion, until it resembled something thick and orange. At least that one smelt familiar and distinct, while the other one just. Kept dragging Natasha’s attention back.

“What’s that one?”

On one hand, Natasha could list the number of times Penny actually looked embarrassed. This was the fourth time. “Nothing, just messing around with a recipe.”

“It smells like honeysuckle.” _That_ comment earns Natasha a very confused look. “… doesn’t it?”

“I—no, I smell broomsticks, and fresh rain…” from how Andre trails off, and with how Penny starts to look particularly proud, Natasha finally wrestles her book from her.

Flipping it around, Natasha pours over the details, before only being able to gape. Had Andre not taken the book off her next, they might never have questioned her. “‘Amortentia’? _Penny_ ,” and he sounded so scandalised, that she shushed him immediately.

“I was just experimenting! And I wanted a challenge. What better than… this.” She sniffs then, a small frown on her face, before returning to the bubbling orange concoction. “If you can smell something, that means it’s worked! My last few didn’t go as well.”

“You’ve tried this before?!”

With a shrug, Penny whips out a vial, administering some of the pepperup into it. Handing it over, she can only roll her eyes. “Oh, stop. I’m not going to give it to anyone! I just wanted to see if I could do it.”

Andre stares as he drinks, while Natasha finally snaps her jaw shut. “Penny, I’m am so proud, yet so terrified, of you sometimes.”

“Thank you.” A pause, as steam begins pouring from Andre’s ears. But he no longer needed his handkerchief, and was considerably clearer in the face. What a grand success. Until she smiles, noticeably wicked. “‘Honeysuckle’? ‘Rain’? Who are you two thinking of?”

“No one at all,” Andre answers, a little too quickly, and all Natasha can do is nod, before ending in a stare at the pearlescent sheen of the cauldron. Huh, who was she thinking of, anyway?


	7. Day 7: Free Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Fire!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a bit of organised chaos for the last part!

“Are we absolutely sure this will work?”

At the brilliant grin she receives from Tonks, Natasha knew better than to question it once again. “Alright, I’m convinced. Let’s do this.”

If she had a galleon, for every time a harebrained scheme happened to involve tricking poor Filch, she was sure that she could afford several new brooms over. Maybe another owl. The possibilities were endless, with how Tonks just lead her forward. And here she was supposed to be the responsible Prefect. By both their logic, if she had been with Tonks the whole time, how could either of them have _possibly_ set off a series of dungbombs in succession, that would have got Tulip out of detention. 

Preposterous. Natasha had to be a Prefect and enact order, and well. Tonks had to listen to her, of course. It was ridiculous to consider the possibility of them working together. 

Passing by his office, in the distance they could spot the back of Tulip’s head, as she was hard at work, dragging a mop over the floors. Ah, manual labour. No finer punishment, it seemed, that Filch had in mind — or was allowed to actually utilise. He kept threatening to use shackles, but no one had ever seen him follow through. Curious.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Tonks grins, hair flashing a particularly wild pink in excitement, even threatening to seem to wave with emotion. Natasha was almost lost in the show, as they hid behind the nearby staircase. Carefully aiming the firework — because what was life without a few explosions — they waited for the precise moment.

And that moment came in the form of Filch hobbling past once more, grumbling about Peeves, and students, and Peeves. How Tonks had ever managed to get him to listen was a feat in itself, but he had been more than happy to assist with dropping a few particularly nasty and enchanted dungbombs here and there. The larger, the better. 

“Fire!”

With a blast, the firework shoots off, a high squeal leaving it as it just missed Filch’s head. With a shout, he chased after it. Only, that was his mistake. “‘X’ marks the spot,” Tonks laughs, as the bomb drops with a whistle. 

Tulip happened to turn around, at the exact moment it hit his feet. Natasha was sure she would remember this moment forever, and they both wildly wave at Tulip to drop and run when Filch shrieks. In the chaos, of students running for their lives, they can hear the lower stairwells swell with nosies too. Perfect. Absolute chaos. 

“Let’s go!” Grabbing both Tonks and Tulip’s wrists, Natasha drags them behind her, as they can only laugh as Peeves appears, taunting Filch. Even better, for who else would Filch blame?

Definitely, absolutely, not them.


End file.
